


Heart-Shaped

by formalizing



Series: Tumblr Writing [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest, almost getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formalizing/pseuds/formalizing
Summary: Much as Sam likes it when Dean treats him like he’s a first date in need of gentling, he gives it up best when Dean puts his teeth to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oh-jesus-sammy (supernaturalblackhole1)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturalblackhole1/gifts).



> Originally posted [on Tumblr](http://all-these-formalities.tumblr.com/post/140212865399/in-response-to-this-post-posted-separately-to).
> 
> In response to a 'Bite Me' cake photo.

They put everything heart-shaped and sweet on sale the day after Valentine’s day, so the ludicrously pink cake Sam picks out is 75% off.

The girl behind the counter offers to write something on the top for free. She blushes about the color of the cake when he says he wants ‘Bite Me’ written big and thick in the darkest red they have.

Dean doesn’t blush when he sees it. He gives Sam a hungry look that has absolutely nothing to do with cake, grabs him with greedy hands, rough like they’ve been given permission to leave temporary tattoo fingerprints on him and intend to make the most of it.

And much as Sam likes it when Dean treats him like he’s a first date in need of gentling, he gives it up best when Dean puts his teeth to him. Sam always wants to see the silhouette of Dean’s mouth on his skin when he looks in the mirror.

He’s not sure if he goes to his knees or Dean pushes him there, but he doesn’t care when Dean’s hand-feeding him icing and day old chocolate cake, two-fingered and so deep his eyes water.

“Y’like it when I put things in your mouth, huh?”

Sam sucks harder in response, bats his wet eyes and tip-toes his fingers up the fly of Dean’s jeans.

Dean’s pink-spit fingers slip back into his hair, tangle in it as Sam gets his mouth around his cock. Sam’s tongue feels thick with buttercream dragging up the length. He presses it firm to the underside once Dean starts tugging at his hair, opens wide and lets Dean fuck his mouth.

There are knots in his hair and his tonsils are swollen by the time come hits his throat, and Sam has barely swallowed when they hear the rumble of the Impala pulling up outside.

Dean stuffs his dick back into his pants still sticky and warm from Sam’s mouth, muttering all kinds of curses as he struggles with his zipper. Sam just combs his fingers through his hair to cover up the traces of his brother’s hands and sits at the kitchen table to hide how hard he is. He curls his tongue against the roof of his mouth where he tastes like Devil’s food and come, idly hopes he swallowed all the sex smell down.

They exchange the usual ‘how’d it go?’ conversation that passes for a welcome home between them, and soon enough, dad’s looking like he’s headed to shower off a day’s worth of driving.

He stops short when he sees the remains of the cake on the counter.

“It was on sale,” Dean croaks, explanation sounding almost like a question as their father looks at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Dean and his sweet tooth,” Sam adds, voice fuck-sore and raspy. Dean shoots him a fierce look.

“Jesus, you’d think you boys’d never heard of a fork,” dad mutters as he eyes the deep finger gouges in the cake, the smudged icing letters illegible. He looks at Sam and rolls his eyes as he pointedly adds, “Or napkins.”

“Oh, y’know me,” Sam says, running a thumb around the corner of his open mouth before sucking it clean with a look at Dean that dad isn’t looking closely enough to see. “I’m a messy eater.”

Dad’s already on his way towards the shower, shaking his head, so he doesn’t see Dean’s guilty eyes glued to Sam’s mouth, either.

“Gonna get us caught one of these days,” Dean mutters once the water’s running upstairs and he’s got Sam pressed up against the edge of the table, jerking him off right in his jeans, fingering at the barely hidden bite marks under Sam’s hoodie that could be their undoing.

“Maybe,” Sam admits, arching his back and moaning loud enough that Dean has to slap a hand over his mouth, squeezing tight and breathing hard as they both listen for any sign that dad heard.

The water keeps running, and Sam bites at Dean’s fingers with a smirk.

“But ain’t that half the fun?” he says as he bucks up into Dean’s grip.


End file.
